This Only
by dianesus773
Summary: While working on a vital potion, Hermione gets to know the man behind the the black robes and venemous temper. [SSHG]
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: As if J.K Rowling would spend her time writing fanfiction when she makes zillions off of the real thing....

This is my first non-one shot story, and I'm quite excited about it. I'm planning on this being fairly long, at least 10 chapters, all of them approximately this length, probably longer, though. Review and tell me what you think! (This _is _going to be SS/HG, in case you had doubts...) Yes, I know, this is a much-used plot in SS/HG fandom, but it's my favorite, without a doubt, so I want to write one. Hopefully, you'll find reading this just as worthwhile as the others, and I guarantee it won't be without twists of its own...

This Only

-Diane-

-Chapter One-

Hermione Granger sat stiffly in her straight-backed wooden chair as she gazed soberly round the Great Hall from her vantage point at the Head Table. She wondered idly why it was that the ceiling only reflected a gray, cloudy sky and not the light, peaceful cerulean of her schooldays. The room echoed with the buzz of half-hearted conversations, an effort by those remaining to preserve some semblance of normalcy. It didn't work, of course; in fact, it only added to the uneasy sense of dread and anticipation that hung over the entire school.

Hermione turned her attention to Remus Lupin, who she had made a habit of sitting next to at meals over the past couple of weeks. Recently reinstalled as the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, nine years after his departure in Hermione's third year, he was just as much of a newcomer as Hermione, if not more so. That, and the fact that he was part of the minority that refused to pretend like nothing was wrong, made him an agreeable dinner companion. In addition, he was friendly, sincere, and intelligent, and an easy camaraderie had quickly formed between Hermione and himself.  

"You wonder why they even bother," he said presently, gesturing vaguely to the small scattering of conversing students dining at the large House tables. "It's not like they don't know that their world's going to hell; they don't have to pretend to take interest in the latest Quidditch scores or the weather conditions."

"There's comfort in the mundane," Hermione told him matter-of-factly, absentmindedly swirling around the mashed potatoes on her plate. "What do you propose they talk about instead? How much longer they have 'till they're forced to fight for their lives? How many more of their classmates are planning to leave before all hell breaks loose?"

Remus swallowed a bit of his beef Wellington, and thought for a moment before responding. "Well, yes. That's all that's on their minds anyway; why not just talk about it, get it out in the open? Why make the effort of covering it up?"

Hermione gazed thoughtfully at the dispersion of students, focusing briefly on the spot in the middle of the Gryffindor table where she and her friends had always preferred to sit. "Because they're only children," she responded finally. "Let them have their Quidditch scores, if that's what they want to talk about. Give them a break; they spend the majority of their day learning how to fight for their lives and the lives of the people they love. Talking about it in their spare time will only deepen their depression."

"I guess you of all people should know." Remus conceded softly, covering her hand with his in a small gesture of support. She turned to look at him; his warm, gray eyes were studying her with what appeared to be concern and quite likely sympathy. She looked away.

"I'm fine," she said, trying to sound as non-terse as possible but falling a little short of the mark.

His large, smooth hand still encompassed her smaller one. "You know you can talk to me, Hermione," he said, his eyes still on her. "I know I'm small consolation, but I'm here, should you need me. Talking with someone who shares your pain can be therapeutic; a word of advice from someone who knows."

Hermione turned again, her brow furrowed a bit. She had a tendency to forget that, in terms of death of a loved one, Remus had been through just as much as she had. She squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Remus," she whispered. "I know how much he meant to you, too."

He squeezed back, and let go of her hand. Hermione was grateful he hadn't pressed the issue. She took comfort in his concern for her, but she hated getting maudlin, especially in public; she greatly preferred to deal with her emotions in private. 

Just then, the main door to the Great Hall opened with a swish, and through it walked a scowling Severus Snape. He strode briskly down the center aisle, robes flapping around his legs and lank, black hair hiding the sides of his face. His arrival was not accompanied by a total lack of surprise; it had been at least a week and a half since he had last made an appearance at dinner, and not a few students glanced up from their dinners to send curious glances at their Potions professor.

The Headmaster himself stood up from his place in the center of the Head Table, breaking off his animated conversation with Professor Flitwick and stepping down to meet Snape at the end of the aisle. Dumbledore took the younger man's arm, and they spoke briefly in hushed undertones. The two broke apart, and Dumbledore went back to his chair, while Snape took the empty seat on the other side of Hermione.

"Hello, Professor Snape," she said quietly, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

"Professor Granger." He greeted her with a curt nod, moving to pick up his fork and begin eating. She noticed his hand was shaking rather badly, but had the tact not to comment on it. She and Snape were on fairly amicable terms, but she still didn't know him well enough to feel justified in prying into his business. She turned her attention back to her plate of food, and finding that she had no appetite whatsoever, excused herself to Remus, stood up, and left the Great Hall.

Once out of the Hall, she ambled slowly down the corridor, making her way to her room near the Ravenclaw dormitories. She hadn't been walking long when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned and came face to face with the Headmaster. "Professor Granger," he greeted her warmly, motioning for her to take his arm. She complied, and they strolled down the hall together.

"So how have you been, my dear? It's been so long we've really talked; how are you settling in?" he asked her, holding up the side of his trailing purple robes with his free hand to keep from tripping over the hem.

"Everything's marvelous, Professor; the staff's been very accepting, really. I couldn't ask for more," she replied sincerely. "Now, I assume there is something you wish to discuss with me, Professor?"

He chuckled grimly. "Never one to put up with small talk, were you, Hermione," he asked rhetorically, more to himself than to her.

Her eyes widened fractionally. He had never called her anything but "Miss Granger" or "Professor Granger" before. _Strange_.

He cleared his throat. "Yes, there is indeed something I wished to speak with you about. You noticed Professor Snape's rather unexpected appearance at dinner tonight, I'm sure."

She nodded. "He was shaking rather profusely, actually. I wondered what the matter was, but most likely he would have taken offence at my asking."

Dumbledore agreed. "You were correct in not asking. Severus doesn't respond well to the concern of others, as I'm sure you've noticed."

Hermione snorted. She would have had to have been blind not to notice _that_. She remembered one particularly memorable incident last month in which, upon Professor Sprout's gentle inquiry concerning his health, Snape had simply walked out of the staff room, slamming the door behind him. _Temperamental bat_, she had thought at the time. She certainly didn't like other people poking around in her business, either, but she at least had the inherent courtesy to not storm out on them, especially when asked a question as innocuous as Sprout's had been.

Dumbledore continued. "Anyway, Severus was obviously not in ship-shape condition tonight. And, as you may not be aware of, his health, and no doubt his sanity, has been declining steadily for the past month or two."

As little as Hermione encountered Snape apart from staff meetings and the occasional mealtime, she actually had noticed a growing change in both his manner and appearance. He had been very vitriolic with the students as of late, even more so than usual. He seemed to always be on his guard, and he was obviously very tense. Not that that was anything unusual for Snape, but he normally wasn't _this_ bad.

"I've noticed...changes in him, lately. He's much more on edge than usual," she told Dumbledore. "Is something the matter with him?"

The Headmaster stopped walking and turned to face her, his blue eyes solemn. "You know that Severus works as a double agent for the Order of the Phoenix, do you not?" he asked her cautiously.

She nodded. "Harr-" she stopped suddenly and studied her shoes. She mentally pulled herself together and lifted her chin, looking straight into Dumbledore's piercing eyes. "Harry told me about it," she finished quietly, pinching her hand hard and willing herself not to tear up.

Dumbledore put his hand on her shoulder and gazed at her sadly. "You can say his name, you know. It's a disservice to his memory not to acknowledge him, and I hope you won't fall into the trap of refusing to talk about him."

"Yes, I know. I'm okay. Everything's fine." she reassured him with a shaky smile.

He nodded at her. "That's my girl," he said, squeezing her shoulder and then letting her go.

"Back to what I wished to tell you. Severus joined the Death Eaters after his seventh year at Hogwarts, something you may not have known. He left soon after and came into the service of the Order, for reasons which are his alone to tell you, when and if he is ready. For approximately 25 years, he has been a spy on our behalf, going to Death Eater meetings and reporting back to us. It's not an easy job, as you can imagine; it certainly has wreaked irrevocable damager on Severus, both physically and mentally. He thinks that Voldemort suspects where his loyalties truly lie, which would explain why he lets the other Death Eaters torture him so mercilessly."

"Wha-What kind of torture?" Hermione stammered out, her mind overwhelmed by this overload of new information about Snape.

"The basics-Cruciatus, mainly, but sometimes they get more creative...I can't even begin to guess the extent of it. Severus is quite closemouthed on the subject, as anyone would be."

Hermione was mildly horrified. She remembered quite vividly her single, brief encounter with the Cruciatus; she simply couldn't imagine the pain of being subjected to it on a regular basis, for presumably longer intervals. 

She struggled to regain her focus on the conversation. "So...so what does this have to do with me?" she asked, her tone expressing complete bewilderment.

Dumbledore was silent for a moment. "There _is_ a way for all of this to stop," he told her. "As we've seen from previous encounters, Voldemort isn't completely invincible. He's been defeated more than once, just not permanently. But it's about time we vanquish him for good.

He paused. "According to Professor Snape's accounts, which are extremely reliable considering his proximity to Voldemort on a regular basis, Voldemort has been growing stronger and stronger. With Harry's...demise and the ignorance of the Ministry, he has been almost totally free of major opposition. He has almost completely assumed the form of a human being, and is able to function as such. Of course, being a human comes with the various physical weaknesses that all humans are susceptible to."

Even in her present state of shock, Hermione's mind was whirling. "So that means..."

"So that means that once Voldemort is fully human, it would be possible to do something as simple as casting an _Avada Kedavra_ to kill him for good. This brings me to your potential involvement in all of this. As you have probably guessed by now, Severus has been the one supplying Voldemort with the means to assume a human form. For the past year, he has been presenting him with an obscure potion called the _Hominis_ potion. For the full effects of the potion to take place, it must be consumed once a week for almost a year. It's brewing becomes increasingly more complex in the final stages, which is why Severus has been so drained as of late.

"Voldemort's need for the potion is the only thing keeping Severus alive, but he takes sadistic pleasure in toying with Severus, pushing him to his limits. Though the man himself would never admit to it, I fear Severus won't be able to take much more of this. He's barely getting by as it is, and the pressure is doubtlessly going to increase over the next few weeks."

The old man looked at her searchingly. "Hermione, you were the best Potions student in your year. In fact, you were one of the best Potions students at Hogwarts for the past half century or so. It's only been three years since you've graduated. Surely you haven't lost that ability."

She looked at him incredulously. "You want me to help Professor Snape with the potion that could potentially bring the downfall of one of the most notorious wizards ever to live?" she asked him, eyes wide with disbelief.

"I know it would be placing a lot of pressure on you," he began. Hermione snorted inwardly. _Understatement of the year_...

"But all you would have to do is follow Severus' instructions. I know you and he have not always had the most...easygoing of relationships. But he needs help, Hermione. The problem is, he's way too proud to ask for it himself."

He took her hand and focused his honest, blue gaze on her. "Please, Hermione. This is crucial to the success of the Order. We're relying on Severus, and I don't know how much more of this he can take."

"But my classes, my duties- how will I make time for all of it?"

"It will all be taken care of, I swear on it. Madame Pince, believe it or not, was an Arithmancy scholar at university; she'll be perfectly able to take over classes for you whenever need be."

Hermione frowned and bit her lip, an old childhood habit that signified that she was wrestling with something in her head. Finally, she sighed. "I'll do it. Fine. Anything that will bring any form of harm to Voldemort, I'll do it."

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "I wish I didn't have to ask this of you, child. The last thing I would ever want is for harm to be brought to another one of you."

At that, she teared up a bit. "I'll do my best, sir," she told him, and meant it.

-------

Next chapter might be coming a bit late....exams and such. You know how it is.

_Hominis_ literally means "of man" in Latin.


	2. Chapter Two

-Chapter Two-

But the beginning of things, of a world especially, is necessarily vague, tangled, chaotic, and exceedingly disturbing.

-Kate Chopin

Long, gnarled hands, reaching for her from under a dark cloak, all that was visible save the glowing red eyes...the eyes were always there, of course, watching silently, challenging her; _to do what?_ she asked it, curious in spite of herself. It just looked at her, and then she knew: _Give up._ _What do you need _them _for? They'll just hinder you, hold you back. _You're _Hermione Granger, for Merlin's sake; brilliant, beautiful, a light in the darkness of the ignorance of others. Come with me; _I'll _appreciate you. Leave them..._

Hermione opened her eyes, blinking wildly in the darkness of her bedroom. She lay still in her large, four-poster bed, her breathing labored and her cheeks flushed. Slowly, she regained her awareness, and sat up, grabbing her wand from the bedside table and conjuring a glass of water, which she gulped greedily. She sat there in her bed for a moment, staring blankly at nothing in particular. Mentally shaking herself out of it, she jumped out of the tall bed, sliding her bare feet into her old, fuzzy slippers and padding her way across the cold hardwood floor to the bathroom.

A splash of water on her face woke her up a bit more, and she glanced up at her reflection in the mirror. Her dark amber eyes were huge against her pale face. _Brilliant, beautiful; Come with me..._ She shuddered, and turned off the light.

Hermione left the bathroom and went back out into her bedroom, crawling gratefully back into the soft down of her comforter. She glanced blearily at the clock: 3:24. A good three or so more hours of sleep left before she had to get up and get ready for class. She turned on her side and burrowed herself under the covers, trying valiantly not to concentrate on the burning sting of the hot tears that streamed down her face.

-----

Morning came, and a sleepy Hermione lethargically made her way through her daily A.M. routine. She took a quick, scalding shower, scrubbing vigorously at her hair and body; her nightmares made her feel dirty. Twisting her thick, damp hair into a low bun, she put on a little mascara and slipped on her heavy, black teaching robes. She hurried down to the Great Hall for breakfast, which was deserted except for a scattering of bleary eyed students and a few professors.

Hermione settled into the empty seat next to Remus Lupin, who looked up from his newspaper and greeted her cheerfully. "Hallo, Hermione," he said, mouth half full of eggs and toast and light brown hair rumpled in a way that reminded her painfully of Harry. "Morning, Remus," she returned, and eagerly reached over to pour a steaming cup of dark coffee for herself, sipping it gratefully. Remus looked at her closely.

"Rough night?" he asked, in that tone of friendly concern that always brought her dangerously close to bursting into tears and pouring out every little trouble to him. Instead, she took another sip of her coffee and replied in an even tone: "No worse than usual, I suppose."

Remus was about to question her more closely, but was interrupted by the swooping of the daily owl post flying in to deliver the mail. A small, tawny owl dropped a couple of items onto Hermione's plate; Remus received nothing. Hermione reflected sadly that, not only did he not have any family to speak of, but almost all of his friends had died or been killed over the past decade. Hermione felt a pang of pity for the lonely werewolf, but was sadly reminded that her situation was not much better.

She turned to her mail: this month's Gladrag's catalogue and a small cream envelope addressed to her in a neat, spidery handwriting that was strangely familiar to her but she was unable to place. She ripped it open carelessly, and unfolded the short note:

__

Professor Granger-

The Headmaster has informed me that you have agreed to be of some assistance to me concerning my current... project, so to speak. Kindly meet me in my office tonight at seven o' clock tonight, if convenient. If not, I am sure we can agree on a more opportune time.

Yours sincerely,

Professor S. Snape

She shook her head in amazement. After what Dumbledore had told her last night about Snape's considerable pride, she would have expected a less... gracious invitation from her former Potions teacher. Remus noticed her bemused expression. "What is it?" he asked, curious.

Hermione debated whether to tell him or not. Remus _was _a member of the Order of the Phoenix; then again, this did seem like the sort of thing that Dumbledore would want to keep under wraps. Remus saved her from having to make a decision, though.

"If it's from Snape, I know all about it," he told her, _sotto voce_. "Dumbledore told me last night after he talked to you; he said it would ease the pressure if you had someone to blow off steam to, when need be. And I'm perfectly happy to be that someone. If you'll have me, of course."

She gave him a tired smile. "Thanks bunches, Remus. Truly. I promise to come to you if things get to be too much."

He smiled back. "Glad to hear it." With that, he turned back to his newspaper and Hermione to her breakfast and her thoughts.

-----

Hermione's day went by in somewhat of a blur. Her classes, which, under normal circumstances, might have been such a joy to teach, were colored with a sort of anxious gloom and uneasiness, on the part of both the students and the teachers. Even the younger children, as few of them as there were these days, were abnormally subdued, and wandered about the school shrouded with auras of submissive fright and apprehension. Hermione was extremely grateful that Arithmancy was only offered to the older students; she couldn't bear to spend any more time than was necessary seeing the resigned, heartbreakingly sad looks of anxiety on the small, round faces of the first and second years.

Her last class ended at five-thirty, and, instead of going to the Great Hall for supper, she retired to her rooms and took a short nap before going to meet Snape. As 7:00 approached, she changed her robes, redid her hair, and headed reluctantly down to the dungeons. As much as she hated to admit it, she was still mildly afraid of Severus Snape. Even though she hadn't been his student for four years now, she still tense and guarded when in his presence, like she was expecting him to ridicule her at any moment. She told herself how irrational this was; Snape had been nothing but civil to her since she had come back to Hogwarts, treating her with respect and professional courtesy. Still, he _was_ a pretty intimidating figure, well-mannered or not.

She had reached the cool darkness of the dungeons by now, and walked along the wide, hollow corridor in search of Snape's office door. She found it at the end of the hall, a plain wooden door with his name displayed on a heavy bronze plaque. She took a moment to summon up her courage; the gloomy atmosphere certainly wasn't very conducive to feeling at ease with the menacing professor.

Hermione rapped on the door with as much confidence as she could muster, and only had to wait a few seconds before the heavy door was opened slowly by the Potions Master himself. He greeted her coolly but politely. "Please come in, Professor Granger," he said, stepping aside so that she could enter the room. She got close enough to him to catch a faint whiff of the lemon solution that he had presumably been cleaning the lab with, and to notice that he wasn't that much taller than she was, or at least not as much as she always imagined him to be.

The office was dimly lit by a few candles that were scattered strategically about the room, and it smelled of parchment and the distinctive aroma of medicinal herbs. Snape was behind his desk now, and he motioned for her to take one of the wooden chairs that sat facing it. He waited until she had sat down, and then did the same, leaning back slightly.

"I assume you know why I have asked you to meet with me tonight," he said in a mild tone, steepling his long, pale fingers, which, Hermione noticed, were still shaking.

Hermione nodded. "Professor Dumbledore filled me in on the basic details, yes."

"As expected. However, things are considerably more complex than that. The brewing of the _Hominis _potion is a very complicated and involved process and requires much effort and care. This potion is crucial to the efforts of the Order and the eventual defeat of Lord Voldemort, and my time is waning rapidly. Thus, your presence in the matter."

She morbidly wondered in which sense he meant when he said his time was waning.

He leaned forward, almost anxiously, and looked her straight in the eyes, serious as ever. "Professor Granger, I cannot emphasize how vital it is that the final stages of this potion are completed on time, and, most importantly, correctly. This is the best and only chance we have at the moment of ending this tiresome war and restoring the peace of the wizarding world. I trust you will take on this task with the utmost dedication and gravity."

She nodded, returning his gaze. "You can count on it, Professor. I'll do anything I can to help."

He smirked, not unkindly. "Willing as always, I see. Your devotion will be needed greatly."

She found herself smiling sadly at him, this enigmatic man she had feared as a first-year, hated as a teenager, and now, as a professor, actually had come to respect.

He cleared his throat, obviously a bit uncomfortable with this sudden show of emotion on her part. "Yes, well. I usually begin work on the potion over the weekend so that my classes don't interfere. Would this Saturday night be agreeable for you to meet in the lab?"

"That would be fine," she replied without hesitation, wistfully recalling a time when there were actually things to do on the weekend, and, more importantly, people to do them with.

"I shall see you at 7:00, then," he told her, standing from behind his desk. She rose also, and moved towards the door. He followed.

"Goodnight, Professor Snape," she said, turning to him as she crossed the threshold and opened the door.

"Goodnight, Professor Granger," he replied in an agreeable tone. "Until Saturday."

-----

Hermione walked slowly through the dark, deserted hallways back to her quarters, lost in thought. The night's meeting with Snape had erased her remaining doubts about taking on the assignment. When Dumbledore had first asked her, her only reservation had been the thought of working so closely with moody, irritable Snape on such a regular basis. But his note that morning had been surprisingly gracious, and tonight…well, tonight, he had been so civil and polite that it had been easy to forget that this was the same professor who had taunted her and her friends so mercilessly in her days as a student. His stinging _I see no difference _quip still echoed bitterly in her head, and she remembered quite clearly those agonizing classes in the dungeon where even _she_ dreaded raising her hand out of fear of his harsh criticisms.

So what had changed in his attitude towards her? Was it her promotion from mere student to colleague? His need for her help on the potion?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her name being resounding off of the walls from behind her. Startled, she turned to see Remus walking briskly towards her, his outline just barely perceptible in the dim light of the eternally-lit candles that weakly illuminated the vast hallway. His footsteps echoed off of the marble floor as he hurried towards her.

"Hello, Hermione" he greeted her quietly when he had caught up with her. "How did it go?"

She was momentarily confused; how did Remus know where she had been? Then their conversation at breakfast came back to her.

"Oh, much more pleasant than expected," she told him. "Snape was quite agreeable, actually."

Remus looked doubtful. "Well, that's…that's excellent. Really, it's great to hear."

They continued walking, side by side. "What, are you so very surprised that Snape has shown he possesses the capacity for civil behavior?" she asked him, detecting the note of disbelief in his voice.

"Oh, no, not at all. He's demonstrated that quite readily in the past. It's just that…" Remus looked uneasy. "Well, he and I do not have the most…affable of relations, stemming back to our schoolboy days, as you know. And surely he's noticed our newfound….rapport," he made a vague gesture, indicating the two of them. "I just thought that perhaps Snape might…oh, I dunno, hold that against you somehow. You know, guilt by association and that sort of thing. But apparently my fears were quite misplaced, and I'm terribly glad of it."

She smiled at him. "Well, it's nice to know you're thinking of my best interests. But really, you don't have to worry about me working with Snape. He's been very…pleasant towards me."

They had reached her room. "Well, I'll say good-night now, Remus." she told him, putting a hand on the wall next to the entrance to her room.

Unexpectedly, he bent down and kissed her on the cheek, lingering a bit longer than was customary. "Goodnight, Hermione," he said softly, his breath warm on her neck. He turned, and walked back in the direction of his own nearby set of rooms.

She stood there for a moment, looking hard in his direction long after he had turned the corner. Then, whispering the password to the sylvan tapestry that guarded her quarters, she stepped into her room, feeling simultaneously slightly nauseous and more at ease than she had in a long time.


	3. Chapter Three

-Chapter Three-

__

It's Hell for us to draw the fetters

Of life in alienation, stiff.

All people prefer to share gladness,

And nobody - to share grief

-Mikhail Lermontov, "Loneliness"

The weekend came, and not a moment too soon. Hermione didn't think she could take any more of her lifeless classes, the hours filled with students sitting straight-backed and tense, staring dully at her as she attempted to teach her lessons with as much pep as possible. This was definitely _not _how she had imagined her career as a teacher, less than auspicious circumstances aside.

After her long week, she was looking forward to catching up on her sleep. Between grading papers and exams, preparing for future lessons, and, of course, her relentless nightmares, she averaged less than 4 hours of sleep a night, and the lack of rest was beginning to take its toll on her. A long sleep-in on Saturday morning was just the thing she needed.

After a quiet dinner on Friday evening, Hermione returned to her rooms, and, barely pausing to change out of her robes and wash her face, crawled into her soft, inviting bed. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was only half-past seven. She grinned sleepily. "Old maid," she muttered at herself, and with that plopped her head onto her pillow and was fast asleep within minutes, a purring Crookshanks curled up by her stomach.

------

__

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

"Hermione?"

The woman in question lifted her head slowly off of the pillow, wishing desperately that whoever the hell was making all the racket would just go away so she could go back to sleep. The knocking continued, though, and she was forced to make an effort at waking up more fully.

She brushed a strand of hair off her face and peered through blurry eyes at the bedside clock: 6:17. Groaning, she pulled her feet up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "I'm _coming_!" she yelled at the door, pulling on her robe and rubbing her eyes violently.

She yanked open the door, fully prepared to hex the idiot who had the nerve to wake her up at this ungodly hour but stopped in her tracks when she saw Remus Lupin standing in the doorway. She suppressed the stray feminine urge to pat her hair down, and gazed at him rather stupidly. They hadn't really talked since the night he had walked her back to her rooms; he had rarely been at dinner, as he had recently agreed to tutor a group of 7th years in some more advanced defense charms.

"This had better be an emergency," she told him grumpily, frowning in mock outrage. If there was anyone she could forgive for waking her up at six o'clock on a Saturday morning, it was Remus Lupin.

He grinned sheepishly at her, and bowed his head mockingly. "My deepest apologies, Professor Granger. You see, I was under the impression that a certain…esteemed Arithmancy professor might wish to accompany yours truly on an early morning dip in the lake, but I suppose that doesn't _quite _qualify as an emergency, so I'll just be leaving now…"

He made a move to walk back down the corridor. She laughed and grabbed his arm.

"You git, come back here," she smiled, pulling him back. "Give me five minutes to get dressed."

He just smiled and shook his head as she turned and reentered her rooms.

True to her word, Hermione emerged after about five minutes, robes on over her bathing suit and voluminous hair pulled back in a simple ponytail.

"Professor Granger," Lupin said respectfully, holding out his arm for her.

"Professor Lupin" she replied, grinning at him and tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow as they made their way to the lake.

-----

It was fairly dark outside when they emerged from the doors of the Entrance Hall, and they crossed the grounds guided by the light of Hermione's wand.

Soon, the dark, placid lake loomed in front of them, the top of the giant squid's head barely visible as it snoozed somewhere near the western bank, its breaths forming large, silent bubbles on the lake's surface. A soft breeze was blowing, creating light ripples on the water and moving the branches of the nearby trees.

"Ouch!" Hermione exclaimed as she tripped over an unseen rock. Lupin grabbed her arm, supporting her.

"Thanks," she mumbled, readjusting her grip on her wand. They walked a little closer to the bank before stopping to take off their robes. Hermione couldn't help sneaking a glance at Remus's bare upper body and legs, which were quite…pleasant, in her opinion; strong, but not like a bodybuilders and with the slightest beginnings of belly flab.

She didn't fail to notice the decidedly approving glance Lupin sent sliding over her body, clad in a modest dark-blue two piece.

She made a move for the lake, testing the water with her big toe and jumping back with a small yelp when she felt how cold it was.

"It must be about 20 degrees below zero!" she exclaimed, looking next to her at Remus, who was already hip-deep in the dark water.

"C'mon, don't be chicken!" he called back at her. "A little sub-arctic water won't kill you!"

"Ha, ha," she muttered under her breath, daring to take another baby step into the water.

She stood shivering there for a moment, her arms crossed and the water lapping gently around her lower legs.

"Remus?" she called, unable to make out his form in the darkness. She heard some splashing and called his name again. "Come back here!"

Suddenly, she felt cold, wet arms around her waist, lifting her up above the ground. She screamed and flailed her legs.

She felt Remus's low laughter in her ear. "Shhhh, you'll wake the whole castle!"

She laughed but continued to resist. "Put me down, you dolt!"

But he continued to carry her farther and farther into the water, until her lower body was completely submerged. She whimpered from the cold, clutching at Lupin, who laughed at her.

"What happened to all that famed Gryffindor bravery?" he teased her, finally letting her go.

She suddenly found herself completely underwater, and inadvertently swallowed what felt like about a gallon of lake water. When she had kicked her way up above the surface, she let out a shriek.

Blinking her eyes rapidly to clear them of water and shivering violently, she reached out blindly for Lupin. He caught her by the wrist and twirled her around in the water, laughing at her water-logged appearance. She grinned despite herself, and, when she was able to see clearly, splashed Lupin right in the face with a large amount of lake water.

He spluttered, and it was her turn to laugh. "You'll pay for that," he growled, wildly thrashing his arms and sending a spray of freezing water straight at her.

She laughed heartily as they continued their impromptu splashing contest. She hadn't had this much fun in a quite a long time; it was nice to act like a child again. Then again, she had never really gotten the opportunity to act like a child back when she actually was one…

Half-blinded by the water in her eyes, she reached out and made contact with Lupin's upper arm. He grabbed her and pulled her closer to him, so they were almost chest-to-chest. Hermione, still laughing, wiped the water out of her eyes with the hand that wasn't being held by Lupin's.

The sun was starting to peek out of the treetops of the Forbidden Forest, casting a pinkish orange tint on the entire lake and the surrounding grounds. The breeze had grown stronger now, and several strands of Hermione's curly auburn hair had escaped from the low ponytail. Remus lifted his hand and pushed them off of her face gently, staring at her with an intensity she had rarely seen in him. She had stopped laughing now, and returned his gaze seriously.

Without warning, his lips were on hers, light and wet from all the lake water, softly pressing. He pulled back and just looked at her again, as if he were unsure as to what her reaction would be.

Ignoring the strange, mildly unpleasant feeling in her stomach, Hermione slipped her hand under his neck and reached up to kiss him, harder this time. He pulled her shivering body even closer to his, bringing his hand to rest on her hip.

Soon, before things became to…intense, she pulled away, her breath a bit shallow. "Remus, I don't think its such a good idea to be doing this right now…" she began, looking at him with a pleading look in her eyes.

He smiled, a little sadly. "Of course, you're right. The students will be up in a bit; I won't even begin to imagine their reactions to catching two of their teachers snogging in the lake."

She laughed at that. Despite her earlier words, she reached up and put both of her arms around him in a wet embrace. He seemed pleasantly surprised by this, and put his arms around her waist, holding her gently. As Hermione laid her cheek on the warm, strong shoulder of Remus Lupin, a man she had known since her childhood and trusted implicitly, she fought to sink the feeling of unease in her gut, and wondered why something that was so right in every way felt so horribly wrong to her instincts.

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Author's Notes:

FYI, I do _not _picture the Remus Lupin portrayed in fan fiction as the Remus Lupin portrayed by David Thewlis in POA. I saw the movie, and I think he fits the role absolutely perfectly, but when it comes to fan fiction, I picture Lupin as looking a lot younger and…scragglier, I suppose is the word. A lot like Ralph Fiennes…in fact, there was a website devoted to him in the role of Lupin.

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On another note, I may decide to discontinue this story. To put it bluntly, I don't really like this story. I mean, I LOVE stories with both Lupin and Snape as Hermione's love interests, but I don't really like where this one is going. In my eyes, BaronessvonLooney's _Further Education _is the best story I've read that that's like that, and there's absolutely no way I could ever make the plot or characterizations of this story as good as hers. Plus, I'm running out of plot ideas, and I _really_ am not looking forward to writing about the technical aspects of Hermione helping Snape brew the potion. Urghhh….

I knew there was a reason I like writing one-shots better…

If anyone has any ideas or tips that they're willing to share, just email me at dianesus773yahoo.com, that would be sooo fantastically helpful.


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